The Way We Are
by Tsuki-V
Summary: Sherlock is hurried home when John lands himself in hospital. It looks like everyone was right after all. Set after RBF. Terrible at summaries, apologies.
1. Little Brother

**Little Brother**

It had been 7 months and 2 days since he had died, 7 months since he had left London. The majority of that time had been spent searching and disposing of the band of criminals Moriarty had put together. He had expected there to be a few 'specialists', but he had underestimated the number. There were not 3 or 4, more like 16. 16 individuals with specific skill sets, 16 individuals which included the few that were in London that day, who had been set up for his friends. They was the first on his list, he had known that getting them out of the way first would make it more difficult to find the others but it had to be done, that was personal.

After them, he had stayed unemotional till the end. Staying focused and efficient until he had removed the rest. He had finished 1 month and 23 days ago and the idea of returning to London had been hard to resist. The only link he had to London was Mycroft. Mycroft and Molly was the only people who knew he was alive. Both out of necessity, it would have been nearly impossible to pull off without Molly and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Mycroft.

Mycroft had set him up financially and kept him updated about his friends. He had stopped getting regular updates about Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade a few weeks later but the updates on John kept coming. He had expected to get them for a month or two after his apparent death but he couldn't understand why he still got them, more than likely Mycroft just having fun with him. He was grateful really, but he would never tell his brother that.

He was currently staying in a small B&B in Nottingham, sitting in an arm chair in his room staring out his window when his phone beeped, notifying him that he had a text. Sherlock got up and grabbed his phone expecting Mycroft's typical text of John's routine. What he didn't expect, however, was the 2 words that was there instead.

'Come home - MH'.

Sherlock glared at his phone for a minute, Mycroft knew he couldn't return to London. Yes, he had disbanded and destroyed Moriarty's band but he didn't want to take the chance and get John killed. He had been informed that there was surveillance on the 3 people in his life for a few days after his death and then been removed, which was the 'band's doing, that was how Sherlock knew them, the 'band', he had also knew that there was a chance that John might still be being watched, making his return a impossibility. If he returned and John was still being watched, John would die.

Sherlock quickly typed his reply 'No' and hit send. He never initialled his texts anymore it had become a habit and since it was only Mycroft, he didn't really care anyway. As that thought finished there was a knock and the door and the voice announced it was the owner. He opened the door and the B&B owner smiled sheepishly at him before stepping back, for Mycroft to take his place. Mycroft thanked the man and walked into the room and took the armchair Sherlock was just sitting in. Sherlock sighed and closed the door before turning to his brother and leaning against the door.

"What are you doing here Mycroft?" He asked, not even trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. Mycroft raised his brows at him before speaking "It's good to see you dear brother. I knew you would not take my text seriously so I came myself, you need to come back". Sherlock glared at him "I have no reason to return brother, as you already know. It is better for me to stay out of London, safer", as much as Sherlock disliked his brother, he had come to depend on him quite a bit and they had unfortunately become closer, therefore more honest, with each other.

"You will not return to London in fear of John meeting an untimely death, correct?" Mycroft asked, Sherlock just blinked at him, this was obvious and they had discussed it previously, it was not like Mycroft to repeat. "Well, as I am here, I am taking you back, with or without your consent Sherlock" Mycroft smiled at him, which made him glare again, why was he pushing this? It was unlike him. "Mycroft, what is going on?" Sherlock hated not knowing Mycroft's plans, he always had, Mycroft's smile faded and he sighed "It is in John's best interest if you come home", Sherlock would have laughed at this if he didn't start to feel slight panic at the words, "What's wrong with John? He could be killed if I return, you know this" he rubbed his hand through his hair in frustration, what the hell was going on? He was starting to worry and Mycroft must have seen the concern on his face.

He had always been able to see through him, it's one of the reason's he doesn't like being near him. Mycroft took a couple of steps forward before speaking again "John is alive" he said quietly and Sherlock sighed in relief "There is a car waiting for us downstairs and a jet waiting at the airport" Mycroft continued at Sherlock frowned. "If John is fine then I will not return" he planted his feet firmly on the ground and glared at his brother, "Now, Mycroft, if you don't mind…" he reached for the door handle as Mycroft spoke up again "I said John is alive, not fine" he sighed and Sherlock stopped. He turned his head to look at him, really look, he looked tired, more than usual, been awake 2, no 3 days and smelled like disinfectant and scrubbing alcohol. Hospital, John's not fine but alive, he's in the hospital.

Sherlock stared at him, willing him to speak, he was growing inpatient, why was John in the hospital? Mycroft looked at him and took a breath "Mrs. Hudson called 999 yesterday morning at 7:35 after she went to take John his morning tea. He wasn't up yet, so it seemed, so she went to wake him up but seen the bathroom door wide open. He was in the bath, his wrists were lacerated multiple times and there was an empty bottle of sleeping pills and a half full bottle of whiskey beside the bath." Mycroft stopped there and watched him. Sherlock hissed in a breath and held it, John tried to kill himself. Why? He couldn't speak. He couldn't really feel anything, he felt numb.

A sudden rush of pain and anger poured through him and he opened his eyes, which he didn't even noticed was closed, and blinked. He was sitting in the armchair, Mycroft was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands posed under his chin, and he looked….concerned, which was strange. Sherlock knew he had to go, but he had to process this information, to understand, first. How had he got from the door to the chair? Obvious, Mycroft. John was alive, but apparently not fine, in hospital, attempted suicide. Why? If John was having suicidal thoughts, it wouldn't have gone unnoticed. He would have had depression for a while beforehand. Mycroft had known, about the depression, and he had kept it from him.

"Now Sherlock, if I had told you, it wouldn't have made any difference, you wouldn't have came back but you would be constantly worried and emotional and the end result still would have been the same" Sherlock sighed to himself, he would not say it, but he was right. How long had this been going on and what caused it? How long was more important right now, so that's what he asked "How long?" his voice sounded strange, he frowned at himself but let it go. Mycroft still hadn't replied, "How long Mycroft?" and Mycroft sighed and stood up, walked to the opposite chair and sat, he leaned forward before replying "7 months" was all he said and Sherlock stared at him.

7 months? But that means….Me? I caused this. But why would John, why would he…because of me? It didn't make sense. John couldn't still be…depressed because of his death, he might be sad sure but not this. Mycroft sighed and pulled something out of his pocket, it was a piece of paper. Sherlock looked at it, confused. "This was under the whiskey. I didn't want to show you this… I'm sorry", Sherlock's eyes snapped up and stared at Mycroft. Sherlock gulped and held out a hand and took the paper, he took in a deep breath before unfolding the paper and read John's writing.

See you soon  
You idiot  
I love you Sherlock.

It felt like all the air had left his lungs. His hands started shaking, he felt lost, and he felt his eyes fill and knew he was going to cry. At that he started to panic, he hadn't cried since he was a child. He did now what he had done then, looked to his brother. He felt the first tears roll down his face, Mycroft smiled sadly at him "It's been a long time, little brother".


	2. Journey

**Journey**

After Sherlock had started crying, Mycroft had knelt on the floor and pulled Sherlock down in front of him and held him. It was a strange experience, but somehow it had shocked neither of them. Sherlock had knelt on the floor with his head on his brother's chest, Mycroft had just put his arms on his back and not moved until Sherlock did. It was exactly how it used to be, when Sherlock was a child, before he had learnt how to protect himself, before he built the walls around himself. Mycroft would comfort him when he would get hurt or when Sherlock got upset over people's reactions to him. Sherlock stayed there for a few minutes, meanwhile, Mycroft had picked up his phone, wallet and passport and they both left the B&B without a word.

Sitting on the plane, Sherlock nearly laughed, how had it come to this? He had left London to keep his friends safe, to keep John safe. Instead he had ended up not only crying but being comforted by Mycroft of all people and John had almost died. Mycroft cleared his throat and Sherlock turned in time to catch something he threw, it was a small recorder with headphones. After putting the headphones in his ears he pressed play and listened, at first there was nothing but a soft rustle, wind blowing in the tree's, then footsteps and then he smiled, Mrs. Hudson on about equipment and schools.

He listened for a while before turning the device off and removing the headphones and putting it in his pocket for later. He nodded to Mycroft as thanks, next he handed over papers, medical records and notes. He glanced over them quickly. Only really paying attention to the long-term effects. Physically, John would be fine, mentally he was suffering from severe depression and PTSD. He also noted that his limp had retuned, Sherlock sighed to himself and put the papers down. They would be landing soon, and then he would only have a short amount of time before they reached the hospital.

What could he say to John? He would be furious. He had nearly killed himself, apparently to be with Sherlock and Sherlock wasn't even dead. If Sherlock just turned up at the hospital John would think he was crazy, or that he was, in fact, dead. Sherlock sighed. "For God sake" Mycroft came out with suddenly, making Sherlock jump, "Text him" he said before turning back to his phone. Text him? And say what exactly? He sighed again and took out his phone, opened a blank text and stared at it for a minute before typing and sending before he noticed what he had wrote. Smart Sherlock, so much for being a genius. He glared at the message

'I'm an idiot.'

Mycroft chuckled and Sherlock turned his head, mostly in shock, it was such a strange sound he didn't know how to react to it. Mycroft looked at him, amused, and lifted his eyebrows at Sherlock. Of course he knew about the text, Sherlock glared at him then Mycroft's phone started ringing. He shot a look at Sherlock, it was John.

Sherlock breathed in deeply as Mycroft answered the phone. Mycroft glanced at Sherlock before he replied into the phone "Yes" then he must have obviously got cut off as he put the phone down and rubbed his head. Sherlock let out a shuddering breath and looked out the window phone beeped as they climbed into the waiting car, he opened the message and winced.

'How could you'

For a change, he didn't want to text. If he had thought about coming home yesterday he would have been happy, but now, he was scared. How could he face John? He felt in his pocket and rubbed his fingers over the note. Did John really mean it? Not the idiot part, that part was true. He sighed and replied to the text hesitantly

'I'm an idiot'

His phone beeped almost immediately.

'Damn right you are, I'm going to kill you'

Sherlock almost smiled, he was thinking of a reply when his phone beeped again, he frowned at it before opening it and his frown disappeared.

'Where are you?'

Sherlock sighed as he replied.

'On my way'

'Can I?'

Sherlock held his phone and waited, he hoped he would say yes, he needed to see him, had no idea what he would say, but he needed to see him. Sherlock was walking back and forward in the hospital lobby when he finally got a reply, it was short but it made him sigh in relief.

'O.K'.


	3. Denial

**Denial**

Mycroft had insisted on going in first, Sherlock had kept walking, more nervous than he had been in the lobby, he was walking around outside John's room. What was taking so long? Mycroft had gone in almost 15 minutes ago. It was obviously past visiting hours but Mycroft had got them in without trouble, but it didn't stop the nurses from glaring at him as he walked.

Suddenly the door opened and Mycroft stepped out and closed the door behind him. He was frowning and rubbing his jaw. John had punched him, Sherlock tried to keep the grin off of his face but he could feel the corner's of his lips twitching. Mycroft glared at him before walking, he stopped beside him and put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, he looked up at him and Mycroft just nodded, patted his shoulder and walked off. Sherlock shook his head before approaching the door and knocking hesitantly.

He heard a grumble and took a deep breath in and out before pushing the door open and stepping in and closing the door. Sherlock turned slowly and faced John. He looked different, still like John, but, different. He was thinner and he looked tired. Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but John cut him off "Don't bother" was all he said, he sounded weak, and it didn't suit him. Sherlock flinched but didn't say anything.

John nodded to the chair beside his bed and Sherlock walked over and sat. He didn't say anything, neither of them did. They just looked at each other. John to prove Sherlock was alive, and Sherlock taking in John. Sherlock sighed and dropped his head for a second, pushing his emotions down, before sitting back up. He held out a hand towards John "Show me" he said softly and John's eyes flickered down the where his hands where hidden under the blanket. Sherlock pushed his hand forward slightly and John took a deep breath and moved his arm out of the blanket slowly, hissing when he had to bend his wrist, and put his arm in Sherlock's hand. Sherlock looked it over, his hand was bandaged from thumb to just below the elbow, he was careful not to move it around too much. From what he had read and what he can see he knew that John would not have much feeling in his hands for a while.

Sherlock put his arm back down softly on the bed and sighed before looking up at John, keeping one of his own hands covering John's. "Why?" Sherlock whispered, he squeezed his other hand in his pocket, around the note. John was about to answer but Sherlock cut him off "Why didn't you tell me John?", John looked slightly confused and Sherlock sighed again as he pulled out to note from his pocket and putting it on John's lap.

John stared and the paper, it had unfolded and John stared at the words before looking at Sherlock, he looked almost scared. "Why didn't you tell me about this?" Sherlock repeated, John just kept staring from him to the note. "John, if this was the other way around, how would you react if I done what you have?" John just kept staring, he kept opening his mouth to speak but nothing was coming out. Sherlock closed his eyes and remembered the note 'I love you Sherlock', "Did you mean it?" he said quietly before opening his eyes again, John clamped his mouth shut and nodded slightly and Sherlock closed his eyes again and let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

Sherlock gulped before he spoke, the only way to say it was to just get it out. He hoped to God that John didn't laugh. "Did Mycroft tell you about when he came to get me?" He asked and John shook his head, "He text me to come back then just turned up. He told me I was coming back no matter what I said. He's been lying to me for months, telling me how you're getting on, but he admitted he had lied. He told me…what happened. Then told me the truth and handed me that, he didn't want to, but he did anyway. And I…" Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, he had never admitted to crying before, never mind this, he opened his eyes again "I started crying. Don't tell him I told you this or he'll really have me killed" Sherlock laughed half-heartedly "He pulled me out my chair and onto the floor and he held me, and I cried".

He looked up at John and smiled at the look of utter disbelief on his face. "If you ever remind me of this little fact then I will deny it." He said as he raised his eyebrows, John's lips twitched and Sherlock's smile widened. No going back now, Sherlock thought as he took a deep breath, stood up, leaned over and kissed John on the head.


	4. You're Dead

"You're dead"

Sherlock sat in the same chair for hours; he refused to leave when the nurses had moaned at him. He just stayed there, watching John sleep and kept his hand over John's. John started to turn his head and whimper in his sleep, Sherlock leaned over and ran his fingers over his face "John, its ok" he whispered and he seemed to settle.

How could he have done this to John? He should have came back before now. He wanted to tell John before he was gone, but he knew it would only make it worse for his friend. He would have felt guilty if he knew, if he knew how much he meant to Sherlock. The nurse had said John could leave the day after which was good. Sherlock wasn't going to leave him alone until he was fully recovered.

Mrs. Hudson came to visit the next morning and had stood at the door, hands on hips like a prized fighter, the sight of her made Sherlock smile, he hadn't noticed how much he had missed her. Mycroft had filled her in on his return. She looked like she wanted to cry, scream and smile when she saw him, instead, she walked over and squeezed him before kissing him on the cheek.

They sat talking quietly for a while as John was sleeping, she had told him about John and how she found him, how she could not loose both of her boys. She had asked him about his time, he left out the deaths, no doubt she would be pleased but he didn't want her to worry about him, so he told her about the places he had seen and the people he had met. He also told her, to his surprise, about Mycroft's visit and his reaction. She didn't seem surprised, she just smiled sadly at him. She had left not long after, promising to make them both tea when they got home. It was a pleasing thought, to be going home.

Later that day after the doctor's had done their rounds and John's bandages had been changed he had been cleared and discharged. Sherlock had left the room to give John some privacy whilst he got dressed then they had made there way downstairs. To John's surprise, not so much Sherlock's, there was a black car waiting for them at the exit which took them home. Mrs. Hudson had met them at the door and gave them both hugs before ushering them upstairs with promise of tea.

It was almost overwhelming to be back in Baker Street. Nothing had changed. Everything was exactly as it had been, he smiled fondly as he noticed that everything was where he had left them, minus a few things here and there. It was good to be back. He helped John take of his jacket and made sure he was comfortable, then just stood there, looking around.

"Are you staying?" John asked in a small voice, Sherlock turned to face him, uncertain of where this conversation would lead which made him nervous. "Do you want me to?" He asked in reply and John nodded straight away, Sherlock smiled. Sherlock shrugged off his coat and walked over to his chair, his violin was in it and he smiled again, running his fingers over the faded leather before picking up his violin, plucking a few notes out of it before resting it against his shoulder and playing softly for a few minutes. He sighed when he finished before putting it back down and turning to see John, who was crying silently.

Sherlock rushed over and dropped to his knees in front of him placing a hand on the side of his face, stroking his cheek to rub a few tears away. John leaned into his hand with a shuddering breath and it made Sherlock's heart ache. He brought up his other hand and mirrored his action before leaning forward to press his head against John's.

"John I…..If I'd known…I never would…." Sherlock stopped himself, stood up and sat beside John on the sofa before pulling the shorter man against his side, being careful to watch his arms. He held him close and told him everything, from the threats to their lives to his travels and actions up until the hospital. When he was finished he loosened his arms and John leaned back and looked at him "How many?" was all he said and Sherlock felt a lump in his throat, the only thing he left out was the number of people in the 'band' and of course, it was the one thing John asked. Sherlock breathed and closed his eyes before answering "16" he whispered and kept his eyes closed tight, he knew he was a monster for what he had done but he didn't regret it. Suddenly there was John at his side again, wrapping his arms around him "God Sherlock, I'm so sorry" he whispered and Sherlock felt confused, why was John sorry? John must have felt the tension and moved back to look at him, registering the look of confusion he sighed and leaned forward "I'm sorry you had to do that, all of it, alone" he said and Sherlock shuddered.

Sherlock had to admit, even to himself, that even though he did not regret his actions, they still kept him awake. He hoped that John would never know what he had done, he knew in general yes, but the rest he hoped he never found out. He couldn't bare to see the look on his face. Of course, he should have known better, John leaned up and pressed a kiss to his forehead before looking at him "I won't ask". John smiled at him and Sherlock couldn't help but smile back "now, stand up and let me have a look at you" John said and shooed Sherlock of the sofa to stand. Sherlock felt quite vulnerable standing in front of John, he doesn't know why. "You've been eating less" he acknowledged and Sherlock just lifted his brows at him. He couldn't really say anything.

Mrs. Hudson finally came up with a tray with tea and biscuits, she made sure they both ate a couple before leaving. Her eyes was red, she had obviously been crying, which explained the time delay in the tea. Sherlock was still worried about John, he had to tell him. Sherlock put down his cup and turned to John, taking his cup and putting that down too. John looked at him confused. "John…" Sherlock started but stopped, why was this so hard? 3 Simple words, that was all. He sighed in frustration and John still looked confused. Fine, there was 1 way to get this done quickly and efficiently, Sherlock thought before moving forward and pressing his lips softly against John's.

John tensed under his touch before relaxing against him, leaning forward into his kiss. Sherlock sighed as he pulled away slightly, just far enough so he could lean his head against John's. John started giggling and it made Sherlock smile "What?" he asked and John continued to giggle. He finally stopped "I really want to see Anderson's face when he see's you" he got out before giggling again. Sherlock had to laugh because the mental image was rather amusing, then he caught himself "hold on" he said and John looked at him "I kiss you and you think of Anderson?" He finished and to give him credit, John looked mortified. "Oh no, no, that's just…no" Was all John could get out, and Sherlock laughed again, poor John.

A bang from downstairs distracted them, they heard Mrs. Hudson answering the door then feet on the stairs and Lestrade's voice dooming. "John!" John sighed and turned towards the door and it swung open "I just…I just heard you…" then he stopped, he just stood gawking at Sherlock. Sherlock's lips twitched "Lestrade" he said and Lestrade stumbled a bit. "You…you're dead" he stammered, Sherlock looked at him with his straight face before he replied "Apparently not". Sherlock stood up and took a spin around dramatically. Lestrade watched and before Sherlock had turned 360, Lestrade darted over to him and grabbed him. Being hugged was not a reaction he had expected, even John watched open mouthed as Sherlock was squeezed, Sherlock lifted a hand tentatively and patted his back.

Lestrade froze, seeming to realise what he was doing and jumped back. John chuckled and Lestrade stared at him then, took him in and stared at his arms, John hid them self-consciously even though he had already seen. "I'm fine" John announced but Lestrade didn't look convinced. He stared back at Sherlock "So, you're alive then" he said and Sherlock nodded. "Don't tell anyone, I want it to be a surprise" Sherlock said and Lestrade shook his head "Anderson's going to have a fit" he replied and Sherlock grinned. Lestrade sighed and headed for the door, he stopped and turned to John "We will talk about this" he told him before he left, closing the door behind him.


	5. Unchanging

Unchanging

The rest of the day seemed to go by remarkably fast, nothing of importance came up, which surprised Sherlock as he was perfectly content. John sat beside him watching TV and Sherlock just relished in the information of being home. The small differences that had taken place in his absence. Occasionally John would look at him, reassurance of his presence, Sherlock deduced, or whenever he stood up John's arm would shoot out and grip his wrist looking panicked. Sherlock constantly made tea and ordered food for John, which was also forced on him.

Later that night John started to yawn but refused to move until Sherlock dragged him up the stairs to his room. John just stood at the door looking from his bed to Sherlock, Sherlock sighed and slid onto the bed and held out his hand to John. John finally crawled under the covers and closed the gap, huddling up to Sherlock's side. With a final look at Sherlock, John sighed and closed his eyes, it took him less than a minute to fall asleep.

Sherlock stayed there for a while, legs stretched out in front of him on John's bed, just watching John. One of John's arms was out of the covers, hand resting on Sherlock's forearm, Sherlock moved his free arm and traced his fingers over the bandage on John's arm, remembering the marks he had seen when the nurse had changed the dressing. The cuts were deep and long and covered the middle of his forearm, Sherlock had noticed the almost healed and scars from times before and sighed. He never would have thought of John as the self-abusive type, it had never even entered his mind, it did not fit in with his personality.

After a while Sherlock made his way quietly out of John's bedroom and walked around the flat, he had seen the living room and kitchen so he made his way to the bathroom, which was the closest room that had yet to be catalogued. Like the rest of the flat, nothing had changed, Sherlock's item's was still in place, the only difference to his belongings was his toothbrush, it had faded marks on the handle from where it had been rubbed with a thumb, Sherlock smiled at the sight before making his way to his bedroom.

He opened the door and stood and let his eyes gaze over everything. His bed was unmade and a few of his shirts lay scrunched up on his bed, John had been sleeping in here it would seem, there was a full box of sleeping tablets beside his bed, dated a few months ago. As if on cue, Sherlock heard a cry and ran upstairs to John's room. At first it seemed his nightmares had come back, John's memories of Afghanistan haunting him, but then John started whimpering and almost thrashing on the bed crying Sherlock's name and Sherlock felt a sharp pang of guilt.

Sherlock sighed sadly and made his way back to the bed, lowering himself so he was lying down properly this time and held John against him. "John…" He whispered and John automatically stiffened as he woke up, he opened his eyes and a sob almost escaped before he buried his head against Sherlock's chest and brought an arm up and wrapped it around the detective's side, holing him closer.

He felt John's breathing evening out again and he sighed, he never would have guessed John would be this affected by his… disappearance. He lay there considering if he could have done anything different, which was new to him, he usually never looked back at things like that, it was a waste of his time, and he couldn't change what had happened. But that's all that kept running through his mind, if he had done something differently, would John have not ended up like this?

Sherlock woke with a sudden jolt of panic and slight disorientation until he remembered where he was and that the sudden pull had been John holding him closer, still sleeping peacefully. Sherlock sighed and leaned his head against the top of Johns, John froze beside him for a second before relaxing, "I didn't mean to wake you" Sherlock whispered to him and John sighed but didn't move, he just stayed with his arm around Sherlock, head leaning against his chest and Sherlock couldn't help but smile.


	6. Self-indulge

Self-indulge

Sherlock thought John had fell back to sleep until the shorter man pulled back suddenly and stared at him, "You kissed me" John said suddenly and Sherlock raised his eyebrow at him, "Sherlock, you kissed me". Sherlock chuckled quietly, surely John's brain hadn't become this slow since he had been gone "I did" he replied with a small smile. John looked at him, stunned then confused, "Why?" he asked quietly and Sherlock sighed.

"Really John, what a dull question." Sherlock replied and stroked the hair on John's head before continuing "Make a deduction. Why would someone kiss someone else?" Sherlock asked and John frowned. After a few minutes John finally answered "People kiss because they like someone" Sherlock raised his eyebrow again at John's still- confused face, it didn't last though as John gapped at him.

Sherlock chuckled again and moved his hand to John chin and pushed it up, closing his mouth. "Correct" Sherlock whispered as he leaned forward slowly and bringing their lips together. John relaxed against him straight away and a soft whimper escaped his mouth, Sherlock sighed and brushed his fingers over John's neck, holding him close. John's hand came up and grabbed the top of Sherlock's shirt as his tongue darted out quickly and licked Sherlock's bottom lip. Sherlock hummed and opened his mouth slightly, meeting John's tongue with his own. It was slow and seemed to go on forever, neither wanting to part. It felt wonderful, Sherlock thought, much better than he had thought.

Sherlock had dreamed about kissing John, not only for the past 7 months but also before then. He had also dreamed of so much more. Of him and John in bed curled against each other, hot and sated, both giving and taking as much as the other. Sherlock felt the kiss picking up pace slightly and his thoughts raced, he wanted nothing more than to have John moaning and whimpering under him right now but he couldn't, at least not yet. So with regret he ended the kiss softly, planting small kisses on each side of John's mouth before leaning their heads together as they both got their breath back.

John had a smile on his face and he hummed slightly, making Sherlock grin. Sherlock sobered slightly "I wasn't expecting you to let me back so easily" he confessed "I thought it was highly likely that you would have hit me at least", John chuckled before he opened his mouth to speak "So did I. I decided to hit Mycroft instead" he said and Sherlock's grin came back as he watched John's smile widen, "I wish I had seen that, it's about time he got hit" Sherlock told him and John chuckled again "It's not the first time I hit him. I think I hurt myself more than I did him. It was worth it though".

Sherlock now sat in his chair as he waited for John to come out of the shower, he would help with the bandages if necessary but doubted the doctor would re-apply them. After about five minutes Sherlock jumped up and put the kettle on the boil, John would want tea and it would give him a chance to have a quick shower. He stood in the kitchen and his mind wandered, he helped John get his top off before his shower as to not hurt his arm's. John was still rather toned and Sherlock had to bite his tongue as to not reach out and touch him.

The kettle boiled and brought him back, he prepared John's tea and walked back into the living room just as John was coming down the stairs. Sherlock handed him the cup and kissed his head before making his way upstairs.

It felt good to be back at home in his own shower, images of John in the shower flashed through his head and he groaned as he felt himself harden. Sherlock wasn't a sexual man, he was a virgin after all so it made sense, but since John, he had found it hard not to self-indulge. Fantasies of John in the shower played through his head as he reached down to grab himself and started stroking slowly at the thought of John touching himself, making himself hot and flushed. Sherlock moaned quietly as he picked up his pace, rubbing his thumb over his head with every upwards stroke until he came with a muffled whimper at the same time imaginary John came saying his name. He stood under the warm water for a minute, calming himself before washing and getting out.


	7. Satisfaction

Satisfaction

When John finally convinced Sherlock that he would be alright they made there way out and hailed a taxi, Sherlock text Lestrade when he was on his way. They wasn't going for a specific case but the thought of seeing Anderson and Donovan's reaction was too much to stay away for both of them, so they made there way. Sherlock looked over at John and had to agree he did look better, he had got some colour back on his face and his arm's didn't seem to been aching so much although he kept going to itch them before pulling himself back.

Sherlock paid for the taxi as John got out and waited, they stood at the doors of Scotland Yard for a minute before moving to go in. It was rather quiet Sherlock thought, but that would work to their advantage. They was in the elevator and they both grinned to each other before the doors opened, there was a few officers up here but none seemed to be paying much attention until they took a couple of steps out and towards Lestrade's office, purposefully slower than usual.

Sherlock heard a choking noise from the far left of the open-plan office and quirked a brow to John who gave a huge closed-lipped smile at him as they both turned towards the noise in unison. Sally Donovan was leaning against Anderson's desk, choking on her coffee as she stared at them in disbelief. They took a couple steps in her direction and it took her a couple of beats before she tapped Anderson's shoulder. He and John was half way towards them before Anderson turned round.

Confusion, anger, disbelief and then disgust crossed his features which made Sherlock smirk. "Ah Anderson, how nice to see you." Sherlock purred as Donovan continued to stare and Anderson frowned before finally catching up and opening that awful mouth to reply, "Of course, I knew it was too good to be true. No-one you want dead can actually stay dead" he said with a satisfied smile. It didn't last long though, within a split second, Lestrade's voice boomed over at Anderson at the same time as John's fist connected with his face.

Sherlock was mildly shocked at John's action but quickly ignored it as he remembered John's wrists and grabbed him and glancing down at his arms before back to his face, ignoring Anderson's cries as blood poured from his nose. ""Are you alright?" Sherlock whispered to him, still slightly holding on to his arms, "a flicker of pain crossed John's face but didn't last before he grinned "Great. I just broke Anderson's nose". John continued to grin as Sherlock resisted the urge to burst out laughing and pull him into a hug.

Lestrade had made his way over before Sherlock took his eyes off of John to look at him. Sherlock opened his mouth but Lestrade cut him off, "I heard" was all he said for the minute and Sherlock nodded to him before turning his face to watch Anderson. Donovan was hovering over him, handing him tissues, before she turned and opened her mouth to be cut off. "Not one word Donovan or you'll be joining Anderson for his next Sensitivity class" Lestrade announced, which made her tightly close her mouth and glare between the three of them.

John was still grinning as Sherlock observed the man with the blood-soaked face with a satisfied smirk before turning to Lestrade. "Maybe now is not the best time.." Sherlock told him and he nodded, Lestrade's eye's flicked to his briefly, long enough to see the small glint of pleasure in them. Sherlock grinned again as he steered John back towards the exit, John received a few pat's on the back and a few thanked him.

They both stayed quiet until they got outside the building before looking at each other and bursting into a fit of laughter. They calmed down a few minutes later, both still chuckling slightly before they started walking.


	8. Control

Sherlock woke early with John still sleeping beside him. It had been just over a week since they had come back to Baker Street and not much had changed. John had almost fully regained his strength and Sherlock had refused to answer Mycroft's calls and occasional texts. Sherlock sighed quietly and looked down at John, they had not discussed their current sleeping arrangement but it seemed to help them both.

Sherlock had become content with lying awake in the morning while he waited for John to wake up. He was surprised that he never got bored, just lying there, but then again it gave him time to think, time with John.

He picked up his phone and checked the time as his phone beeped. Mycroft, Sherlock sighed and opened the text and fired off a quick response, the first since he returned. John started to shift in his sleep as his dreams started to take a turn for the worse, Sherlock put his phone away and held him close until he started to relax and come out of his sleep.

John sighed and leaned into him as he woke up, lifting his hand to grasp Sherlock's shirt. Sherlock tightened his hold around him and leaned his head on the top of John's for a few minutes until John regained his composure. "Alright?" Sherlock asked, receiving a slight nod from John who slowly released his grip on his t-shirt, flattening his hand against Sherlock's chest.

This was their usual pattern, Sherlock pressed a soft kiss to the top of John's head before he started to move to go down and make tea. This time, however, John pulled him back and wrapped his arms around his waist, leaning his head back on to Sherlock's chest with a sigh.

"John?" Sherlock looked at him slightly puzzled as he started to panic. There was a reason Sherlock left the bed every morning, a reason he went far away downstairs and as much as he hated the fact that his body refused to obey him, he always made damn sure that his mind did and the only way he could do that was to get out.

John wasn't ready, and to have him lying half exposed and so close, it was damn hard to do nothing. "John. I need to make tea." Sherlock said, trying to sound bored. John mumbled something against his chest but Sherlock couldn't hear, after a few seconds of Sherlock not replying John lifted his head slightly and repeated himself quietly "Stay". Sherlock really looked at him then, eyes slightly downcast, cheeks turning pink, eyes slightly dilated and a slightly quicker pulse.

Sherlock groaned inwardly to himself. He was still debating with himself when he found himself on his back, Sherlock snapped out of his thoughts and opened his eyes and couldn't stop the groan that escaped him. John was crawling his way up Sherlock's body on his hands and knees. Sherlock clutched the sheets underneath his hands and tightened his jaw. Sherlock always forgot how strong John was, especially now, he was still toned but he seemed smaller than he once did and it was hard for Sherlock not to just grab him and take him at a normal time. But to have him all spread out, minus the tight black boxers which hid nothing crawling to him on his hands and knees was pushing it even for Sherlock.

Sherlock clenched his jaw tighter to stop what would have no doubt been a growl from escaping before opening his mouth again. "John…" Sherlock spoke through his clenched teeth, conveying the threat that went along with John's name. Sherlock should have known better, should have known that a threat would do quite the opposite of deterring John. Sherlock brain was working slower than normal, which just proved it as he had that thought, John's eyes sparkled slightly and he smirked up at Sherlock.

Sherlock's eyes widened as he realised his mistake, John noticed and grinned as he finally reached Sherlock's face and looked down at him and licked his lips before opening his mouth to speak. Sherlock watched as he licked his lips and snapped. Before John had a chance to form any words Sherlock leaned up and claimed his mouth.

Sherlock held John and sat up, forcing him to sit on his legs. Sherlock's brain checked back in and he was about to pull away from John when John whimpered and clutched Sherlock's shoulders.

This time, Sherlock did growl and held John tighter against him, pulling him flush against his chest and slightly up before settling him down on his lap again. This caused John's cock to rub down Sherlock's stomach and Sherlock's own cock making them both groan at the contact.

Sherlock slowed the kiss and ended it with a last sweep of his tongue and sighed. There needed to be a compromise here, Sherlock didn't want to rush this.

Breath back to regular pace and some form of self-control back Sherlock lifted a hand to John's face and cupped his cheek before bringing their mouths back together. This kiss was not like the last, this was soft. John's breath hitched and he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock ran his other hand along John's back and side and slowly made his way down, slipping his hand under John's boxers at the same time that he softly licked John's bottom lip. John gasped at the contact and opened his mouth, letting Sherlock slip his tongue inside as he stroked John slowly. Sherlock kept the pace deliberately slow. Taking his other hand from Johns face he pushed his hand under his pyjama bottoms and stroked himself at the same pace.

They both knew it wouldn't take long, the kisses stayed slow but there breathes were fast becoming uneven and John was letting out small whimpers and moans which could have got Sherlock off alone but he wanted to see John so he broke the kiss just watched.

John had his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open, small puffs of air escaping his kiss reddened lips as he moaned quietly. Sherlock kept his pace on John steady with the occasional twist from his wrist. He stopped the hand on himself and concentrated on John for a few minutes until John was close then started again at a quicker pace with both hands. John started trusting his hips into Sherlock's hand slightly and it was a wonderful vision. Sherlock leaned up and kissed him quickly before whispering to him, "Open your eyes John." and John did, Sherlock kissed him again softly, keeping their eyes locked before leaning back slightly and quickening his pace even more.

John moved his hand and placed it over Sherlock's heart and Sherlock thought his heart would burst. Sherlock felt John tense above him and kept their eyes locked as John said his name quietly before crying out his release. That's all it took for Sherlock to finish with him, John's head fell back and Sherlock groaned through his own orgasm. He removed his hands and wiped them quickly on the bed before wrapping his arms around John and holding him close.


End file.
